


Enalgesic Anatomy

by Bremmatron33



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Medical Kink, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, robot gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:57:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bremmatron33/pseuds/Bremmatron33
Summary: Life can be tough for lone grave robber out there but there's always a job to do and money to make if your determined enough to take it.  Just another Knock Out story. This one loosly inspired by Repo: The Genetic Opera.  It was supposed to be for Halloween but I missed the date.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You ready for this unoriginality! Just kidding I put a lot of hard work into this story please read it.

“I build them,I break them.  
instal them and take them.  
Yet for all the work that I do, barely a cube for my tanks.  
For all the good I provide not one single thanks.  
But it’s all I can do, yes it’s all that I know.  
I’m a service, a good service when you’re lower than low.  
Oh~ What do I pay my handlers for?”

 Knock Out hummed as he walked through the bombed out streets of the city. The war had already passed through leaving a multitude of untouched riches and useless already picked through husks. Parts to be harvested. Money to be made. He already had three full external subspaces filled with parts despite still having streets to explore but he was only one mech and his frame could only carry so much. Still Knock Out couldn’t stop himself from going after a particularly shiny mech that caught his attention. The aerial had been untouched despite a siphoning wound and the obvious bullet hole that had sheared right through his spark but that was nothing compared to most. What got Knock Out was the dead mech's quite lovely helm that the medic swore he recognised. Riches awaited!

 Oh symbiosis was a good thing. The siphoners took the energon they needed which stopped the quickening of rust leaving him perfectly reclaimable chassis. As he tore open the chest plates and looked through the internals he was happy to spy a pristine T-cog just waiting. With this one he would have an even three dozen to add to the inventory. A good haul. Looking over poor mechs other bits Knock Out couldn’t ignore the jet’s beautiful engine. It was mostly beautiful because it was one of his own creations. With a sigh Knock Out scanned the serial code engraved in the metal and sent a quick message to Lockdown.

 ‘Another lost client.’ The merc replied back in record time.

 ‘SLAG!’ Knock Out felt the other mechs pain. The engine wasn’t cheap. Whoever the mech had been...Stormbreaker so said his file, had been a big budget client and his debt wasn’t even close to repaid. Knock Out went to work; the light shling of his scalpels escaping through his talons echoing in the quiet street. Stormbreaker was a cold constructed jet. Surely he would be able to find another dying jet who needed use of it and if not he could smelt it. The beauty of the craft.

 With the engine,armor, guns, T-cog, thrusters, fans, optics,servos, fuel lines, gears, ball bearings, springs and more all removed Knock Out had another full storage cash. As he stood he sighed heavily from exhaustion. He had been on his peds with little recharge for two entire weeks now thanks to the battle and the harvest and it was starting to show. The wires in his legs were so taught they were likely to snap, his tires were practically bald, and his fans were so clogged that he had to stop every hour or risk overheating. He needed a good oil bath. With a last look at the body he tipped the dead mech's chin to the side with a ped. It _**was**_ a beautiful helm…..he could keep it.

 

Despite the exhaustion and the weight he was already carrying Knock Out found himself stopping at another ten chassis. The last one...number ten…. _ **he just had to**_. He just couldn’t stop himself. He loved the harvest. The sound of ringing silence and whispering wind, the soft clang of skittering shrapnel. The smell of residual ozone from laserfire and soot from burning metal. The beautiful placid faces dull or even better….like number ten…. sometimes still lingering with life. Fritzing optics, slow moving chests, softly rumbling engines. Too far gone to save but too stubborn to die. There was just something about digging through still warm internals. The way the spark still made things move uselessly. The way wires and lines tightened around his digits as he worked. Chassis thrumming and pulsing desperately with whatever the siphioners had left them with. He loved it. He loved it like an addiction. So he always made it so slow. Did those jobs with the _**utmost**_ care. The moment always felt...just too good to squander. When they moaned and twitched but never struggled or begged. Knock Out just knew he was not only giving himself an experience but them as well.

 

Number ten had been his most enjoyable experience yet. The beautiful mech had groaned and whined so wantonly. A cruel dirty tease. His optics never leaving Knock Out as he worked. His parts leaking vibrant blue for him to indulge upon. Knock Out licked every drop from his talons, slow and exaggerated. Every mech's loss was appreciated if Knock Out was involved. The medic wanted the other to know.

 

Most of them died halfway through the harvest from pain or fuel loss but number ten refused. Lingered on as Knock Out broke him down bit by bit and Knock Out made sure to do a full gutting. Taking wires, and screws, joints, pins, and even struts. _**Oh beautiful struts**_. Knock Out like to leave mechs with a bit of dignity in death but with the living ones he just couldn’t help himself. They always made such….enticing noises when he got that deep. Knock Out’s frame was already hot and twitching by the time he got to the poor mech's optics. He was a professional but that didn’t stop him from getting excited. Knock Out rested the front of his helm against the other mechs; an old endearment for the dead or soon to be. Ten rewarded Knock Out with tears, desperately gripping servos, and a single word. “Stay.”

 

Knock Out never wanted the connection of another mech more than he did of number ten, than he did of a dying spark. He knew most would think him grotesque or insane, sick, but Knock Out knew himself better. It wasn’t about pain or submission it was about mercy and divinity. Deep down locked away in his hollow star of a spark he wanted to be a hero. Be there when they needed him the most. He wanted to save them. Save their sparks within his own so part of them could carry on. He loved the dying and they loved him back even if they rarely showed it.

 

With little breath and an electrified chassis Knock Out finished his work. Deconstructing twitching peds, sawing through sturdy armor, unscrewing still clutching servos. When all was said and done Knock Out slumped to the dust and pulled what was left into his lap. The mess of still living metal shivering in his touch. They attempted to speak again but as their vocaliser clicked on all that rang out was a long low fried wail. Knock Out stayed with them. Slowly caressing them, holding them as their vents grew more gutteral and pained as they flailed and panicked as death and cold drew closer and washed over them. Till their spark finally dulled and died; winking out like a distant star in the polluted smoke filled sky. Knock Out sighed as the energy lingering in his circuits started to die with the loss of number ten’s warmth. “One of these days darling. We’ll save one when they want it.”

 

Lockdown was waiting for Knock Out when he returned to his small salvaged ship. Perhaps it had been an Autobot bomber or a Decepticon supply carrier before they started putting their brand on everything they owned. Knock Out didn’t know. It was home. Warm and safe.

 

“How was the hunt? Plenty of full ones out there?” Lockdown wrapped his arms around the smaller mech as he stepped through the door. He still tingled with energy and Lockdown could smell the faint perfume of pheromone from the medic's over heated metal. “You find a live one out there?” Knock Out stiffened slightly under the mercs touch revealing the answer but refused to say a word. Knock Out wasn’t a talker when he was still overburdened. Lockdown followed the medic at his side to the small medbay and effortlessly spun Knock Out to face him as soon as the smaller mech dropped his goods to the floor. Grabbing the medic's chin gently Lockdown forced Knock Out to look up at him. “You know if I could get you as hot as you get for corpses we could have a perfect life together.”

 

“You could figure out a way but I’d get bored of you eventually. That’s the beauty of the dying really. It’s brief and fleeting. No offense to you and your charm though Lockdown. Too much of a good thing and all that.”

 

“MMhmm. I could treat you to plenty of fresh new good things if only you’d let me.”

 

“How about you treat me to a hot oil bath and smooth cube of energon while I sort these parts.”

 

“You’ve got repossessions.”

 

“I’ve got bald tires and stretched wires that need replacing is what I’ve got.”

 

“Hmm~ Can I join you in the bath?”

 

“If you can fit in the tub.”

 

“Bring me some tools. I’ll get you ready.”

 

Lockdown was already in the tub when Knock Out finished cataloging. He had honestly been kidding the merc with his invitation but as he slipped into the hot oil himself and comfortably situated himself on the other mech’s lap he forced himself to recognize he was stuck with the situation. “ I may have to steal this tub from you. Where did you pick it up?”

 

“From Swindle. It’s an old solvent tub for medics to clean off the bigger boys.”

 

Lockdown slipped a servo into the oil to caress Knock Out’s thighs. “Hmm I’ll have to see if he has any more. Are you alright at this angle?”

 

“I’m fine, unless you want a face full of my wheels.”

 

“No~ Now that you’ve got me in here I think i’m in need of a nice long break myself. Let the oil loosen those tight gears up a bit first and then I’ll fix you up.”

 

“Fine with me. Tell me Lockdown, how are the books looking?”

 

“Just yours?”

 

“Do you really think I care how many slaggers pay you?”

 

“No need to be cruel.” Lockdown sighed as he leaned back against the tub. Slipping an arm around Knock Out to inch him just a bit closer. “You’re so far in the green you could clear about a dozen debts if you wanted?”

 

“Why do you always think I’m clearing debts?”

 

“Cause you’re soft on the inside. Deep, deep, deep, deep,down.”

 

“Some mechs just aren’t worth chasing after. That’s all.” Knock Out twisted himself further to fold his arms onto the rim of the bath to rest on. “If I’m making so much profit then why am I always starving?” Knock Out would have turned around to give the merc a look especially since he had failed to bring him the energon he had asked for but he was far to comfortable at the moment so he left it at his bitter salt.

 

“Because Swindle is a cheapskate who only buys low grade and you won’t drink energon that hasn’t already been in a mech unless it’s the best you beautiful freak. It takes me a while to find those sellers. I keep you running though don’t I?”

 

“Barely.”

 

“Well if you really need fuel that badly I know one fun way I can give it to ya.” Lockdown took his chance to bounce Knock Out on his lap a few times.

 

“Keep dreaming.”

 

“Then stop complaining. I’ll contact my seller and see why your delivery is so late.”

 

“It’s my ship and my bath I’ll complain all I want.”

 

“Yeah but I like you better when you’re enjoying yourself. Tell this old merc what you need him to do for you?”

 

“Whose up on the docket?”

 

“Oh~ business, business, business with you." Lockdown sighed as he shifted slightly in the oil. "Just a few nobodies. Needed new servos, new peds, new t-cogs. Just take them back and leave them a condolence prize till they get their finances in order. Then you've got Skywarp. He still has a heavy debt but considering that it's for his new spark casing I’d offer to just take the new T-cog he needed last month. He misses every couple of months but when he can pay he makes sure to pay. Considering how close he is to Megatron you’re going to have to cut him some slack.”

 

“What about good old Megatron? Starscream too.”

 

“They payed. Starscream payed up his backlog too which is why I’m guessing Skywarp couldn’t pay. You know how much of a sleaze he is.”

 

“Inside but not out. Don't even think about insulting my work. Who else?”

 

“The Autobots. Again.”

 

“How much would I lose if I just wrote them off?”

 

“Fifty thousand. Each.” Knock Out hissed through his denta.

 

“I should have never done those jobs. I thought fucking Bots would pay! Don’t they have an honor code or some slag!” Knock Out slammed his fist onto the ledge of the bath putting a sizeable dent in the thick metal.

 

“Face it you just wanted that truck to ram you as hard as he could so you gave his kid whatever he needed.”

 

“Oh is that so? What was I thinking about the other one then?”

 

“Bad advice. Wreckers usually pay. They also usually have plenty of dead friends. If he aint got nothing good to take this month just scrounge around. You’ll find something worth taking.”

 

“Hopefully.” The two sat in silence for a long time just enjoying the hot oil and each other’s presence. Lockdown’s servos slowly straying where they shouldn’t. Knock Out didn’t bother chastising him. He would have appreciated a quick frag with the merc but he just didn’t want to deal with the aftermath. Lockdown never went easy and was made up of seventy percent sharp metal. A little fooling around couldn’t hurt though. Knock Out turned around to give the other mech better access, wrapping an arm around his neck for support. Sinking the other in the oil to return the merc the favor. “Don’t you dare scrape the paint down there with those those mangled trash forks you call servos.”

“You got it do-” Knock Out cut Lockdown off with a kiss, the merc’s engines revving loudly causing both mech's frames to shiver. Lockdown laughed into the kiss, his other servo slipping from the lip of the bath to grab at the smaller mechs aft to pull him closer. His digits beneath the oil slowly working the medic front to back, fondling the seams of his modesty plating. Knock Out doing very much the same. Lockdown didn’t waste any time; letting his panels and plates slide back so his plug could spring up. Knock Out’s engine purred as he wrapped his servo around it, eager to touch.

 

“You like the way it feels? Huh?” Lockdown thrust playfully into Knock Out’s grip as he worked.

 

Gripping the merc’s plug and and parting the protective silicon with his thumb Knock Out dipped the digit in further to tease all the inner jacks. They buzzed with electricity, sparking every time he ran his thumb over the exposed pins. Lockdown’s entire frame shivered with arousal, he leaned back against the tub taking Knock Out with him. “Oh yeah~ You know how to get right to the fun.” The merc was fully pressurised in no time thanks to the medic’s wandering talons. The firm pressure up and down his shaft already flooding his seams with static before he could even make any headway on the medic. “Come on darling. Are you just trying to make me squirm?”

 

Knock Out pulled his lips from Lockdown’s neck.“Is that a crime?”

 

Lockdown buried his face in the lines on Knock Out’s neck and vented deeply taking in the heavy scent. “You’re acting hard to get on purpose. I know this oil isn’t still this hot just ‘cause of me.”

 

“It’s not my fault you popped open the moment I touched you. I’m not giving you the idea that this goes any further with me till your fuse’s been blown and your cords safely back in it’s housing.” Lockdown looked down at him genuinely distraught. Part of Knock Out wanted to laugh and the other fought himself from bolting.

 

“Y-you can’t be serious. IT”S BEEN FOREVER!” Lockdown was a mess of anger and desperation as he grabbed at Knock Out’s face. “All I’ve had is-s-s SWINDLE!”

 

“What’s your point you love fragging Swindle. I don’t need you scratching up my paint.” Knock Out knew better than to tease like this. This was his and the merc’s routine. It kept them sane. Kept them mechs instead of the monsters that life made them work as.They were both hard mechs who led hard lives which left little room for any sort of real emotional connection. So they saved that for each other. Saved their trust for just each other when they needed it most. But Knock Out had never once said no to the bounty hunter and he had to admit seeing the usually sparkless mech so flustered was kind of a power trip.

 

“IT ISN’T THE SAME! I don’t get anything real from him! It’s all stock emotions and selfish need an-an-and HOT SLAG! WE’RE NOT THAT! YOU KNOW WHAT WE ARE! Doll! Angel? Why are you doing this? Di-did you find someone else?” There was almost a whimper in the bigger mech's words as he asked.

 

“No.” Knock Out tried to look as stone faced as possible as Lockdown grabbed at him, showering him in kisses.

 

Knock Out could hear the rage growing in Lockdown’s voice. “THEN WHAT IS IT? Please! Babe! I’ll paint you into a masterpiece and buff you till your aft shines brighter than the god forsaken sun! Just tell me what I did to tick you off?”

 

“What if I just don’t want it? I think you’re getting too attached.” Lockdown looked as if something actually broke inside of him. Knock Out could only hold his composure for a moment longer before breaking into a soft laughter. “I think you’ve gone soft. I figured you would have taken what you wanted by now.”

 

“Are you seriously laughing at me? ARE YOU FUCKING-” Knock Out quickly leaned forward and smashed his lips against Lockdown’s quailing the mech’s fearful rage. He had blurred the lines for him and that was dangerous territory. The bounty hunter’s servos were immediately everywhere at once as he ground his spike against Knock Out’s crotch. He had tormented to merc for too long and it didn’t take long before he shoved his servo down to pry open the medic's plates and panels manually. Knock Out winced and cried out into Lockdown’s mouth but the pain was quickly replaced by a tingling warmth as the other mech’s digits circled his port. Lockdown pulled away from the kiss, long strands of oral lubricant still clinging to his lips. “You brought this on yourself. You’re always so mean to me.”

 

“You always come back so I think that’s a you problem.” Lockdown held Knock Out’s face in his servo, stroking the line of his jaw slowly as they stared into each other’s optics. The next thing he knew Lockdown had slammed him into the oil, his helm hitting the metal with a clang as Lockdown’s claws bit into his throat. Panic washed over him in an instant as warm oil surrounded him filling his mouth and vents as Lockdown’s spike slowly sunk into his port. Knock Out's engine revved as arousal washed over him. He was already so hot. He tried to vent, his fans kicking on, but they only sucked in warm oil slowly suffocating him as Lockdown fragged him.

 

The merc took his time as he moved in and out of the medic. Lockdown knew Knock Out’s limits and it was only fair for the slag he had pulled. The little sociopath was too good of an actor for his own good sometimes. Still despite his need Lockdown kept himself from plugging into Knock Out completely. Forming the connection between them like this….it wasn’t right. What they had was special, the merc wasn’t about to screw it up by getting even. Slowly, shallowly fragging the smaller mech got his point across just as nicely. Knock Out played games but having their connection so tantalizingly close only to be ripped away was an even worse tease for the equally as emotionally starved mech. When Knock Out started to scream Lockdown pulled him out and fell back against the edge of the bath so he could pull the smaller mech down on his plug all the way. Talons pierced and clawed at his faceplate as they connected. Raw emotion and energy, data and memories flooding them both. Going from anger and desperation to sadness, emptiness, loneliness, fear, and pain. As those memories washed over them they clung to each other. Lockdown swearing and screaming out in angry growls while Knock Out wailed and cried, guttural and pained as oil dripped from his lips and vents. Lockdown could feel flat talons puncture through his intake, Knock Out dented thighs and a torn up back.

Together they lived in a slagshow. A life that took more than it gave so it was only in the small moments they spent together that they could finally have something close enough to love, something like peace. As the shock and pain of the connection wore down joy and calm started flooding in. Love, and understanding. Arousal and want. Rough touches turned to demanding ones as they each showered each other in kisses and sweet feelings, words too jumbled to string together except for their names and a few I love you’s.

 Knock Out’s engine purred as his processor cleared just enough to calm himself. “Hagh~ hmm~ What are you waiting for? Frag me. I want you~ Under the oil.” Lockdown nodded and easily shoved Knock Out back under using all of his weight to keep him there as he nipped and sucked at sensitive metal. Fragging the mech’s biting port slowly at first before picking up the pace till Knock Out was squirming and arching beneath him.

 

When he heard Knock Out’s fans kick off Lockdown quickly pulled the smaller mech up to let the oil drain away. Quickly at first like energon from a new wound, then slowly tapering to a sluggish drip... drip...drip. Lockdown’s engines revved in satisfaction. The medic looked beautiful in his dripping black sheen, with his fever bright optics crackling with energy, a weak satisfied smile curling at the corners of his lips. Lockdown loved seeing the medic truly happy; not his usual ever pleasing persona. “Is it the suffocation or me that’s making you look like that?” Knock Out placed his servos on Lockdown’s shoulders and pulled himself close to kiss him forcing the merc to fall back against the side of the bath with a painful clang. Surely that was going to leave a dent.

 

He pulled himself from his trailing kisses to whisper in Lockdown’s audial. “What are you waiting for? I’m almost there.”

 

“Why are you always rushing things? I’ll get you there when I get you there.”

 

“Oh you’re such an slagger.”

* * *

 

 

The mech on the table was screaming and bawling at their top volume. As if anyone was going to risk fighting against Knock Out. The medic wasn’t impressively strong but he held a grudge and had a specific memory that retained past transgressions. “Listen Sterling this isn’t as bad as most. There are some mechs that owe me fortunes who can’t even live without the parts I’ve created for them. So you’ll walk with a limp. You’re a plane!” Knock Out generously sealed up Sterling’s fuel lines and connected what few wires were necessary for the prothstetic. “Come find me when you can afford my work. I’ll keep it whole and intact for a whole year if I can and if something comes up I will build you another one at no extra cost.”

 

Sterling vented quickly now that the pain had subsided and tried to reach out for the medic. “Please! What am I supposed to do with one thruster?” Knock Out motioned around the auxiliary medbay the Decepticon medics had let him borrow.

 

“There are plenty of good medics here. They can fix you up for free.”

 

“At the risk of getting Vehicon parts! That blow up!”

 

“Then you should have thought about that when you joined on. I’ll still be around when you have the shanix. Good luck Sterling I do hate that it has to be this way.” Knock Out waved Sterling off as he turned to leave. Skywarp was next. Unlike Sterling and the other poor nobodies the seeker wouldn’t be dumb enough to just reply to a medic’s request. He’d have to surprise the jet.

 

Skywarp’s ped jittered loudly as he sipped his third drink. Starscream had screwed him. SCREWED HIM TO PAY HIS OWN DAMN DEBT! Like he didn’t have his own! He was supposed to pay up last month. He had the money. HE HAD THE MONEY! Then…. Thundercracker needed it. He would have died. The Con medics would have taken one look at him and shoved a needle in his lines and he would have been gone. So he had to pay. Medicine, treatment, a new thruster, optic, fans. Not cheap. Even from a two bit hack neutral healer. He had needed that service allowance but did Screamer give a fuck? Not a chance. So now he was broke and Knock Out was on the ship.

 

Skywarp was smart enough to ignore the medic's call. Like those demented, overworked slaggers actually went out of their way to act like they cared! They were a service not a free Conjunx to weep to! That wasn’t going to stop Knock Out though. Nothing stopped him. Him and his damn bounty hunter! Ruthless, emotionless, untouchable slaggers. Sitting with Alkane in his tiny excuse for a bar was only going to buy him so much time.

 

“You could get a loan. Soundwave might take pity on you. He never uses his allowance and Ravage and his drones barely cost anything to keep entertained.” Alkane had come over to give Skywarp another pity drink. The least the bartender could do. Nothing good but good enough to numb the poor jet when he eventually did face Knock Out.”

 

“He’s paying Knock Out himself. Rumble got sheared in half last battle remember. Our docs are smart enough to do their best work on the cassettes but Soundwave still had to go to Knock Out to get him a new engine. Do you really think Rumble gets enough to pay for that himself?”

 

“Yeah but who’s going after Soundwave if he doesn’t pay?”

 

“Yeah but he already paid. Just paid the full amount. He’s broke.”

 

“Primus! Why doesn’t Megs just force Knock Out to work for us? It can’t be that hard!”

 

“Because Lockdown could win. He’s no prime but he doesn’t fight fair.”

 

“Lockdown couldn’t beat Soundwave. One way or another he’d go down and Knock Out would have nothing left to protect him.”

 

A sudden nasally spine twitching drawl came from just behind the two. “ _**Now, now boys**_ do you think so lowly of me. I can take care of myself you know.” Knock Out sat at the stool and tossed Alkane a small wad of cash. “Tell Ratbat to give me something good. I’m not in the best of moods for games.”

 

Skywarp looked the seated mech over. He was sporting a new paintjob. Copper and true black with contours of tiffany blue; bright and fresh. He must have just been with Lockdown. It made Skywarp sick that he was going to have to attempt to destroy such a work of art. If he could just knock him unconscious and hide him in a holding cell for...two months, MAX- he could pay and hopefully save some other poor sparks from trouble. “You’re lookin' good.”

 

“Thank you. It’s a necessity in my line of work. No one would buy parts from a mech who couldn’t even keep himself together after all.” Alkane returned with a rather large cube of bright teal energex and set it down in front of Knock Out along with a few notes.

 

“This is the best we got. Not nearly worth all that.” Alkane gestured to the rest of the shanix on the bar. Knock Out sighed as he looked the drink over.

 

“Keep the rest for yourself Alkane. You look like your one good push from falling apart. Buy some supplements.”

 

“Appreciate it doc. Will do.” Alkane took the money and headed off to serve another customer but not before giving Skywarp a look. The extra tip wasn’t that much and Alkane didn’t want to be too obvious but he wanted Skywarp to know he didn’t plan on being a huge slagger.

 

With a bit of privacy now Knock Out swiveled on his seat to face the jet. “Finish your swill.” Skywarp’s gaze turned steely as he put the glass to his lips. Did Knock Out just plan on dragging him out? He didn’t care what the smaller mech could be packing it wasn’t going to happen. Skywarp wouldn’t let the medic embarrass him like that. When he set the glass down though he was surprised to see Knock Out take it. A long talon puncturing a hole in his own cube to slowly refill the glass.

 

“How generous. Thought you said you weren’t in a good mood.”

 

“I said I wasn’t in the mood for games. You know better. What happened?” Knock Out sounded like an exhausted commander who had just caught a troop of Vehicons trying to clean up a mess midway.

 

“Thundercracker. Then Starscream fudged the books. Docked our pay for “insufficient participation”.” Knock Out took a long sip on his cube draining half of what was left in one go. Skywarp could practically see the medic’s wires twitching with frustration. At least the medic could still empathise.

 

“When do you think you can pay me?”

 

“Soon. I promise.”

 

“What about the mech you took Thundercracker too?”

 

“I paid him all upfront. Should have killed him. That damn- OPTIC! It’s already fritzing! Couldn’t shoot for slag last battle! Nearly hit me ten times!” Knock Out pushed the mech’s glass closer to him. Skywarp swiftly grabbed it and downed it all. It made his optics burn with the energy surge and his twitching plates only grew worse but Skywarp just didn’t care anymore.

 

“You should take me back to your room.” Skywarp's spark stilled as he gazed into the bottom of his glass for a long moment.

 

“You going to let me pay you the fun way?”

 

“Fun for one of us. I have a deal to offer you. One you might not like mechs overhear you agreeing to.”

 

“And what if I don’t agree to it?”

 

Knock Out drained the last of his cube with a sigh. “We’ll see. I’d really like to be civil about this.” Skywarp gave his glass another long glance before standing, holding his servo out for Knock Out to take. “That’s a good boy.”

 

Skywarp checked the bolt on his door for a third time as he thought. He couldn’t believe he was actually thinking about going through with Knock Out’s psychotic plan!

 

“Come now Skywarp. You’re a jet. You need to fly more than you need those precious powers of yours. It’s not as if I’m keeping them forever. I just want to run a few tests. See if I can’t build a few of my own at no harm to the original I assure you.” Skywarp couldn’t keep his plates from twitching as he paced around the room, the space getting colder by the second from Knock Out’s presence alone.

 

“I don’t know Knock Out. I use my powers for a hellofa lot more than me. If I suddenly don’t have them someone’s going to notice!”

 

“Then tell them it’s broken. Act real choked up about it. You’re already in debt they’ll believe you.”

 

“Sure but-”

 

“Tell you what. You say yes and I’ll sweeten the cube a little. I’ll fix Thundercracker’s optic and for the surgery I’ll give you a full dose.”

 

Skywarp’s whole frame shivered, plates rattling loudly, he even had to reboot a few things with how far his processor had wandered. “A whole dose?”

 

“Mmhmm. Wherever you want it.” Skywarp turned to the doctor with a shaky sigh. The small vial already in one servo and the gun in the other. A generous dose of enalgesic just ready to go. Enalgesic was a drug of the doctor’s own creation. Designed for Megatron who had needed serious, dangerous work done. Not a single flinch type of work and yet the leader refused to go into stasis even for his own medics. So Flatline called Knock Out. The drug he created was…...it was more than a drug, more than a painkiller, it was an….. experience. Megatron quickly grew addicted, using doses of the stuff before, during, and after battles and whenever else he just wanted it. With so much of it in stock around the ship and how Megatron acted under it it didn’t take long before Cons were nicking the stuff for themselves. Just a taste. It couldn’t be that good right? They couldn’t have been more wrong. With it cycling through the Con ranks as a recreational drug it didn’t take long to hit what was left of the streets and even the Autobot troops. It was Knock Out’s first high ticket item. His best seller even now.

 

“ Do you promise? About Thundercracker?” Skywarp inched closer as he watched Knock Out load the small gun.

 

“ _ **Mmhmm~**_ ” The jet was on his knees now, head in the medic’s lap. He had never had the money for the doctor’s miracle drug, never had a chance to taste it but Primus and Unicron reunite did he want it!

 

“D-does it hurt?”

 

“Just a spark, but you’ll like it.” Skywarp felt the tip of the gun against his neck. Then the sting of the needle. Then the rush of drug. In the next moment he was everywhere and nowhere all at once. The world and reality swirled around in hyperspeed but he stayed still. Safe in Knock Out’s lap. Under Knock Out’s thighs. Under Knock Out’s knife.

 

“Oh DOC! Please~” Skywarp was grinding beneath Knock Out like a circut hound in heat. The little newbie had even popped his panels; no shame anywhere in his demands. But Knock Out had come here for business and so he remained professional, letting Skywarp do as he pleased as he carefully cut and dug through layers of metal and mesh while the drugged jet ruined his new paint.

 

“Now, now Skywarp you’re going to snap a wing lurching and fooling around like this.”

 

“Oh~ Doc! Your serovs~ I want em’ deeper~ PLEASE DOC! DEEPER!” Knock Out’s engines revved despite himself, his frame warming rapidly. He knew Skywarp was going to be trouble.

 

“ _ **Lucky there Skywarp~**_ That one I can do for you.” The slower and deeper Knock Out buried his servos the more Skywarp writhed and lurched. Hips bucking, vent’s stuttering, spike leaking, leaving Knock Out sticky with datafluid as he bounced him up and down. “Alright now you’re just making things difficult.” Knock Out wished he could say he was truly annoyed but the smile on his lips and the lightning in his optics gave him away.

 

“Pl-please doc! I-I-I-”

 

“Oh yes I know.” Knock Out let his servos wander as he felt around for the specific part. Following one of the jet’s main fuel lines he finally found Skywarp’s transport core. The strange mechanism barely bigger than a shoulder gear. It would take a fairly long time to remove. It was a good thing Skywarp was really enjoying himself. “Don’t worry Skywarp. **_I’ll get you there_**.”

* * *

 

 

It had been a long month. The battle ending in nothing more than another stalemate with the Autobots retreating first leaving behind three thousand dead. Someone would be sent soon to collect them for a service but it wouldn’t be quick enough. The thought alone made Ultra Magnus’ tanks shift uncomfortably. How quickly and efficiently the scavengers worked. It was just obscene. So he didn’t think about it.

 

There had been hours of paperwork and an even longer officers' meeting and while Ultra Magnus was usually a mech of all action and little rest the time of the month had been nagging at his spark with fear and worry leaving him drained. Rodimus had been getting better though. More responsible. Magnus just had to have faith he just needed to trust the young mech.

 

When he unlocked the door to his quarters though a familiar frame was seated on his berth. Magnus swore under his breath as he did his best to slip inside.

 

“Evening Ultra Magnus.”

 

“Knock Out it’s been a long day please just go. I’ll send you what Rodimus owes tomorrow I promise.”

 

“Oh I know you will Ultra Magnus. Your word is law after all but just how much do you think that is?”

 

“Four hundred. Just like it’s been every month! You know better than to play games with me.” Knock Out smiled as he pat his lap, beckoning the larger mech to come sit with him.

 

“I’m afraid I’ve got some terrible news.”

 

“Terrible news?”

 

“ ** _Just plain awful._** You see Magnus your little hot rod hussy has become addicted to the knife.”

 

“Addicted to the knife?”

 

“Oh now don’t look at me that way because deep, deep down you know that I’m right. And even if you don’t I have a long long list of receipts.”

 

“Let me see!” Knock Out dipped a servo into his subspace and pulled out his foil ledger and handed it over to Magnus.

 

“You see Magnus because dear Rodimus has become addicted to the knife, addicted to the saw, the torch, the brush, addicted to the drill, the solder, the rush he’s accumulated quite a few enemies. Quite a few enemies and even more debt and here’s the kicker Magnus. As I’m sure you can guess your poor selfish Rodimus hasn’t paid a cent.”

 

“What does that have to do with you?”

 

“Well Ultra Magnus every reputable mech in the market knows the other and we’re all quite close.”

 

“Close?” Magnus looked up from the ledger to give Knock Out an unconvinced look.

 

“Closer than most. And the thing that sets me apart from them aside from skill is that I always get paid.”

 

“Any which way.” Knock Out had eased Magnus to sit and had placed himself on the Commander’s lap.

 

“Oh hush now.” Knock Out leaned in and rested his arms Magnus’ chest protrusion. The soft glow of the Autobot insignia seeping through the cracks to illuminate Knock Out’s face.”

 

“I get the idea. Your ledger is very clear. You’ve taken up all Rodimus debt at the cost of your own. How much do I owe you?”

 

“Fifty thousand.”

 

“For one payment!”

 

“ _ **Like I said.**_  Addicted to the knife. This hurts me too Magnus I’ll let you know. I made that ungrateful wretch perfect and he squandered it!

 

“He fought in a war he didn’t squander it!”

 

“Tit for tat, I still can’t take my parts back and while I’m civil I know my opponent's skills don’t match. So what are we going to do Magnus because while I appreciate your time it’s not fifty thousand credits.”

 

“I don’t have that kind of money just to give you all at once and you know that. You’ve gotten your concerns across. Rodimus is deeper in your debt so I’m deeper in your debt but just jacking up my yearly payments isn’t going to get you anything.”

 

“I know that Magnus but the payments are going to have to be a little higher or…”

 

“Or?”

 

“What’s the code to your morgue?”

 

“Knock Out no.”

 

“You have some mighty fine mechs with some mighty fine powers who are very, irreversibly dead. You know you always have my discretion. In and out. T-cogs, gears, and anything special and I’ll shave it off your debt.”

 

“Your threats aren’t nearly as bad as the guilt I’ll face!” Knock Out pushed himself off of Magnus’ lap and was pacing around in a slow circle.

 

“How about when I go after Rodimus.”

 

Magnus was silent now. They had a deal. If Rodimus didn’t pay it was Magnus’ aft that was on the line! He had known what he was getting into working with the vicious neutral, Rodimus hadn’t had a say. all Ultra Magnus cared about at the time was that he was bringing Rodimus to the best medic possible after Ratchet had done all he couhld have. He made Rodimus bed for him. He wouldn't let Rodimus suffocate in it. “We had a deal.”

 

“Deals can be broken. You can’t pay and you won’t help me out so-”

 

“YOU’LL STRIP HIM? I WON’T LET YOU NEAR HIM!”

 

“No, no, no, no,no. Why would I do that? He’s handsome...  _ **and he’s already mine**_. **_Hooked_**. You saw how much enalgesic he’s bought from reputable dealers? I’m sure that’s only half of what he’s taken. Only Primus knows how much knock off stuff he’s bought. I can tow him along anytime I want and it only takes one shot before he’s turning tricks for Lockdown.” Knock Out had drawn close again. Still not returning to the bigger mechs lap but leaning most his weight on him; the digits of one of the Commander’s large servos intertwined with his own. "Think about it this way if you let me take him his debts gone. Lockdown treats all his workers right because I treat them when they’re down. So he’s free of his debt and he’s out of the war and with his line’s full of NL...  ** _he won’t remember a thing_**.” Magnus refused to think of the idea. It made him sick. He wasn’t going to give Knock Out permission to traffic his only ward!

 

“What about me?”

 

“You? I think most mechs would recognise you and you’d be sorely missed from the field but Lockdown can definitely find you some clients.” A mad look gleamed in Knock Out’s optic, one that Ultra Magnus immediately extinguished.

 

“Not that. I’ve got guns, a private ship, armor? I could downgrade.”

 

“That’s a one time deal Magnus and it’s not what I’m looking for. I’m trying to set up a system. It’s not like there’s any laws about donating important organs. You’re acting like I’m going to mangle them. It’s a tad insulting." Ultra Magnus was quiet for a long time. His venting slow and heavy as he fought with himself.

 

“Knock Out?”

 

“What is it big boy?”

 

“Rodimus needs help.”

 

“We all cope differently but for this one I’d agree with you.”

 

“You started this. Can you fix him?”

 

“Asking me for another favor before we’ve even settled the ones I’ve already done for you? Really Magnus?”

 

“It’s a yes or a no. Don’t lie to me.”

 

“It’s not a day done deal and it’s painful but yes. I do it to Megatron every couple of months when his chassis starts shutting down.”

 

“S-shutting down? Knock Out!”

 

“It’s a drug Magnus what do you expect if you do too much? Relax. I’m positive Rodimus isn’t hitting up as frequently as Megatron is.”

 

“I want you to clean him up. You can send Lockdown to pick him up.”

 

“Again what about-”

 

“4337rg. That’s the code. This is the only one I’m giving you. Rodimus- He’s his own mech. He handles his problems the way he wants to handle them when he has the competence and the clarity to do so. Whatever he does while in your care that might pertain to his debt is his choice. If he….doesn’t act as I think he will….we’ll set up something else. Please don’t hurt him. Just send him back to us better than he is.

 

“ ** _Oh Magnus_**. Frankly I’m a little shocked but I think you’re right. I haven’t had the chance to get to know Rodimus as well as you but from what I remember he does seem like the mech who fixes his own problems. So that just leaves one more thing. You told me it’s been a stressful day and I certainly didn’t make it any better so….how about I apologize.” Knock Out slowly sunk to his knees, his servos on Ultra Magnus’ thighs encouraging him to spread them. Magnus grabbed the side of Knock Out’s face and tipped it up to look him in the optics.

 

“I can’t do this with what I’ve already agreed to. Please just leave Knock Out.”

 

“You sure?” Magnus couldn’t look at the medic for long with him in his position and stay strong.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Alright.” Knock Out stood and sauntered over to the door. Their business was done. If Magnus didn’t want to have a little extra fun because of his conscious what did Knock Out care. “You know where to find me if you change your mind. Should take me a few hours to finish up.”

 

Before he could leave Ultra Magnus called out to him. “The sixteenth of this new month. Look your best. I need a neutral to show we have a united front against the Cons.”

 

“Need supplies from outsiders?”

 

“Always.”

 

“Our usual spot?”

 

“No. When the day comes tell me where your ship is docked and I’ll come get you.”

 

“How romantic. See you then Magnus.”

 

* * *

 

One last job. One last debt to collect. A good drive away from Magnus and the Autobot HQ stood the wreckers large encampments. Supporting and supported by the Autobots but not on paperwork the guerilla fighters kept to themselves. Stood for themselves. Cared for themselves. Mostly. Knock Out knew a few neutral healers who often did business with wreckers and he was sure that they were a good chunk of his own clientele despite them posing as neutrals. Had to get that discount after all. All in all the consensus was they were unpleasant to deal with. This wasn’t going to be a nice drive by the neon sea.  
Lockdown had assured him they payed though so when the cute obviously wrecker ex-construction bot came to him with almost no money but a need for new armor that could match the stuff he had before surviving an energon explosion that put him out of work and into the pits well Knock Out couldn’t say no. So with a promise from the mech that he wouldn’t die before paying his debt Knock Out called up the best metallurgist he knew and went to work. The mech was a big boy who needed a lot of armor so the price tag ended up being pretty high and that had made Knock Out nervous. He gave the slagger the lowest payment plan he could think of to encourage him, three hundred shanix and yet he still failed to pay. Month after month. New mold’s just starting out in the army got at least five so a seasoned wrecker should be earning more than that! It was mostly his own fault for letting it go so far but he thought was being nice. Wreckers saw themselves as a family and their family died at an alarming rate. Finding a templar to do a blessing sure wasn’t cheap. No he was paying the price. He was going to force the cute bulky wrecker to pay his price. He may not get what he was truly owed but he was going to get his fifty thousand at least.

 

Luckily thanks to the Bots loosing the battle in their optics most of the Wrecker's were drinking their wounds and their sorrows away leaving the streets clear and quiet. Knock Out didn’t scream Wrecker but he did scream beautiful and in the dusk of the poorly lit encampment no one could tell him from Crank. Just another pretty body one lucky boy got to play with. Finding the right tent was the hard part. After over a dozen tries and one helpful intoxicated new mold Knock Out finally found the right tent. Walking in he didn’t know what he was expecting to find but it sure as the Pit wasn’t what he got. Bulkhead was destroyed. Missing an arm, a leg, and half of his chest. A quick scan showed slow ventilations a guttering engine and a diminishing spark signature. The slagger was dying.

 

“Not even intact for me? Come on! How many times am I going to have to sanitize my servos?” He was going to have to do a full strip job on the brute to make his money back. At least a T-cog with a minimiser would fetch him almost ten thousand alone. Silver linings. As his pedsteps fell on the worn dusty metal Bulkhead turned on his cot to look at the intruder. A few streaks of light crackled in his foggy optics as he looked Knock Out up and down.

 

“Oh now what did those idiots go and do?”Knock Out had to admit the brutes weak lopsided smile warmed his spark a little. Usually clients never got his engines running even if they were on the verge of death. Unless they were paid up of course.

 

“Don’t remember little old me Bulkhead? Judging from you now you should. You likely wouldn’t have survived whatever put you in this state if it wasn’t for my armor.”

 

“What are you talking about? I don’t know you.” Oh now that was even sadder. Did none of these brutes think to try fixing their memory files when they got damaged? Probably not.

 

“Well then consider me Mortilus’ angel. I’ve come to end your pain.”

 

“Jackie said the doctor was coming tomarra’.”

 

“You’d be dead before then even without me stepping in. Aren’t you lucky I’m here to make things easier.”

 

“Wh-what are you-” Bulkhead fell from his cot as a coughing fit took hold of him Thick foul black smoke billowing from his vents and seams.

 

“Hmmm. Energon has already turned on you. I doubt you’ll last another few hours. How about I ease the pain?” Knock Out popped open a compartment in his arm and pulled out a vial of NL; the teal and gold glow lighting the small space. “What do you say big boy? Let’s get started.”

 

Bulkhead tried to fight, managing to keep Knock Out away till he felt the needle in his side. The rush of cold in his fuel lines. The burning freeze in his circuits. It felt good after all the pain. Felt right. Felt... like nothing he had ever experienced. Drugged, Knock Out easily straightened Bulkhead out and swung a leg over to take a seat. Looking at the mech’s chest sourly he pulled out a spray to disinfect his servos then switched to his saw to do the same. “Just let yourself go to the drug and you’ll be in a better place soon.”

 

“Ah- ah- ah- I remember you…..Doctor? Why are you doing this?” Knock Out smiled as he teased the underside of Bulkhead’s chin with a few long strokes.

 

“I’m saving you darling. From agony. Now enjoy our time together.” Knock Out revved his saw and let it drop. The feel of it biting into the other mechs metal the perfect rush to keep him going.

 

Plates and screws, nuts, washers and bearings. It took getting through all the small things to get to the good stuff. Bulkhead had calmed down the moment Knock Out put his servos to work and was now a rumbling mess beneath him. Swearing, groaning, begging for attention as tainted energon leaked through poor field jobs to pool in divots and components making a huge mess of Knock Out. The feel of the bigger mech's dying engine and the cute faces he was making was easing Knock Out’s ire though, the brute was starting to make his spark crackle. Primus why had Magnus been in a bad mood!

 

Bulkhead let out a particularly loud moan as Knock Out freed one of his fans. A little dirty but after some treatment it would be good as new. Fans for bigger frames sold fast and this big boy had six of them. Cha-ching. Hopefully the the cold night air would keep the engine from setting on fire. It was already going to take a lot of cleaning to sell the last thing he needed was for it to be damaged but things needed to be removed in a certain order. Risks of the job.

 

He was giving the over sensitized Bulkhead a break and picking apart the leg he had left when it happened. One good blow right to the side of his head had him knocked out cold. He didn’t know how long he was out for, likely not long judging by how frantic the bickering that woke him up was.

 

“YOU SAW WHAT HE DID! YOU WANTED ME TO JUST LEAVE BULKHEAD TO DIE!”

 

“Of course not but you beat the slag out of him! When he wakes up he’s going to be pissed! You think getting your insides ripped out is bad? That’s nothing compared to what Lockdown will do to you for hurting his Conjunx!”

 

“Guys Bulk isn’t going to make it with Kup alone. We either have to make nice with K.O. real quick or we just may as well let him finish and apologize so we he won’t do any more damage.”

 

“HOW ABOUT WE KNOCK YOU UNCONSCIOUS AND LET HIM DISMANTLE YOU!”

 

Knock Out took a moment to check his systems. His left optic was gone, Left leg unresponsive, two flat tires, and there was definitely a crack in his tank. Nothing his auto repair wouldn’t fix in time but is was leeching energon regardless of how small. He couldn’t even take in account the number of dents and scratches that idiot brute had left! Primus maybe Alkane had been right. This wasn’t the first time he had been attacked on a repossession and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Things to think about later. Right now was getting free and showing those damn wreckers why it wasn’t smart to mess with him.

Back with the Wreckers Springer was just barely keeping the peace. “JUST KILL HIM! We can take Lockdown out-”

 

“NO! Breakdown get it through your thick skull! Half of us owe him a debt and that’s not because he’s the only slagger willing to take us! He’s the best you can get after Ratchet! You kill him and you may as well kill half of this battalion!”

 

“You can find a less sleazy doctor!”

 

“Just go back to Bulkhead and keep him alive! I’ll deal with this.” Springer shoved Breakdown off down the small street back towards Bulkhead’s tent before turning to Impactor. “Do you know how much he owed?”

 

“Not a damn clue.” Springer grimaced.

 

“Start up a collection. Hopefully he’s not that far behind.”

 

“Got it.” Impactor gave a half hearted salute before heading off into the line of tents.

 

As Springer approached, Knock Out was already through one of his arm bindings. “That’s some torch of yours doc. Don’t bother wasting it though I’ll set you free after we come to an agreement.”

 

“Oh and what would that be?” It pained Knock Out to speak. One more thing to add to the fucking list.

 

“How much does he owe you?”

 

“Fifty thousand. He doesn’t even remember our arrangement but I have receipts if you need them.”

 

“I don’t. I remember. I sent him to you. If I had known that the blows to the head knocked out an important memory like that I would have reminded him. Couldn’t have sent a nice reminder card first?”

 

“Hah! That’s funny~” Springer carefully dropeed to a knee and wiped away the thin line of energon that had leaked down Knock Out’s jaw.

 

“Breakdown really gave it to ya. You’ll have to forgive him. They’re close.”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“I know, I know your sparkless, you gotta put on the act. What can I give you to fix Bulkhead?”

 

“Seventy five.”

 

“There’s no way! Your lucky if you get ten from the collection. Listen I promise you’ll get Bulk’s money if I have to pay it myself but I can’t lose him now!”

 

“I suppose I could use a heavyweight to follow me around and you’ve got plenty of those.”

 

“A body guard? Yeah. That I can do.” Springer rubbed at his face a few times. The mech he was going to send off already in mind but completely unsure of how he was going to pull his plan off. There really was only one way. He quickly undid the rest of Knock Out’s bonds and pulled the mech to his unsteady peds. “Y-you can still work right?” In a swift motion Knock Out pulled out his stun spear and rammed it into one of Springer’s open seams.

 

“ ** _Don’t insult me_**. Just go get my money you slag sucking glitch.” Springer seethed as the energy coursed through him but refused to buckle. Breakdown was definitely going to pay for pissing the medic off.

 

“Just- Let me go get Breakdown out of there first. Unless you want another hammer to the head.”

 

“I’d likely just be taking home two sets of parts but I’m done prattling. Bulkhead won’t survive long without another dose of NL. Better hurry with your friend.”

 

“Can I borrow your spear? It’d make my life a lot easier.” Knock Out glared up at the mech the sting hampered by the fact that the medic only had one working optic left. Springer nearly missed the catch.

 

With Breakdown tied up and Knock Out working on Bulkhead Springer convened the rest of the battalion. “Alright cough up the collection.” Impactor came forward with a few bundles of credits which Springer quickly set to counting. “Alright so while I do this, any of you slaggers feeling like leaving the fight to go with the Doc. He wants a little extra metal behind him and this” Springer waved the bundle of credits, “Isn’t going to pay him off.” There were a few murmurs in the crowd but no one stepped forward. “Yeah I figured. Alright then we’re putting this to a vote. Those in favor of exiling Breakdown shout it out.” The commotion heralding his own demise stirred Breakdown awake. He looked around at the group gathered before him his spark dimming darker by the second.

 

“Seriously? Springer? For a good for nothing monster parading around as a medic!” Springer turned from the crowd and knelt next to Breakdown.

 

“That good for nothing monster is your new boss. Face the facts you’re more trouble than you’re worth. You botch your team’s missions. You run from fights. You get taken out and taken hostage more than any single wrecker among you. And you’re the reason Bulk was stuck in that building in the first place. You’re worthless Breakdown and you’re a casualty waiting to happen and despite how much he tried to get you up to snuff if Bulkhead could his vote would be sending you off too. I don’t care what you do after the doctor sets you free but you sure as the Pit is deep aren’t welcome back here.”

 

“Wow~ That was harsh. Where’s my money? My paintjob’s not getting any better being eroded by energon.” Springer stood, stalking over to Knock Out, and shoved the wad of cash into one of his servos and the medic’s spear in the other.

 

“There. I managed to scrounge you up fifteen. Now we’re even.”

 

Knock Out glared down at the chained up mech as he slipped the cash into his subspace. “Are we? You’re seriously trying to tell me you’re giving me the mech who beat me up to be my bodyguard.”

 

Springer moved in closer to whisper to the medic. “Considering your reputation? Yes. Breakdown knows that exile is an end all matter. If he knows what’s good for him he’ll stay with you. So are we done? Will Bulk live?”

 

“Doubtful. But I bought him a few good years. He’ll still need a new arm and leg though I didn’t bring any of those supplies.” Knock Out leaned down and picked up the end of the chain and pulled Breakdown to his peds. Primus he barely stood a few inches taller than himself! He wasn’t going to stop slag! “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Breakdown had put up a bit of a fight at first but out in the outskirts he was just like a pet on a leash. Knock Out stopped to get another look at him. He was seriously damaged. Old damage. Strain and healed over scars from a life of struggle. That didn’t mean there couldn’t be some decent struts beneath the plates though. But that meant surgery, work that would cost him if Breakdown ended up running off but it would be a necessity if he wanted to keep the brute on as an actual bodyguard. The first step to that was a little bonding. Knock Out burned through the lock on the chain and let the bindings fall to the ground. Breakdown looked down at him, his golden optics dull, cloudy with held back tears. “What? Setting me free ‘cause I’m not worth the hassle?”

 

“Can you drive pulling me faster than we can walk?” Breakdown looked around the barren landscape, looking for anyway out of the Pit he had been thrown into.

 

“Yeah but not for long. They didn’t call me Breakdown for nothing. My engines cracked. I can’t even drive myself long distances without falling apart. You’re better off on your own. I won’t help you anyways. You’re a monster plain and simple and I still have my honor left.”

 

“Oh? Not even if I can fix you up? Not even if I can make you stronger than every. Single. One. Of those slaggers who wanted you gone. You see Breakdown I may be a monster but I’m a demon and I make the best deals.”

 

“There’s no way you could do that Springer’s a triple changer.”

 

“The. _**Best**_. Let’s make them miss you. Make them regret your name. All you have to do is trust me.” Breakdown looked Knock Out over slowly. Even beaten and battered he still stood like a winner. Like no amount of anything could break him. Maybe it would be worth it to join up with him? He didn’t actually have to do any of the gross stuff Knock Out did. Just keep other mech's mitts off him while he did it and in return the Doc would make him look like he’d always wanted. “If you’re not interested in the deal then you are free to go. I’m not going to waste my time chasing you down when I can buy a better guard on the cheap.

 

“O-o-okay Doc. Let’s get you back to where you need to go.”

 

“Where we need to go. You’re part of the team now Breakdown and-” Knock Out paused, the sound of his message alert going off. He quickly checked it. It was Lockdown with a new list of repossessions but at the top of the list was a surgery call. Starscream, the primadonna, he had just paid off his debt and he already wanted back under. There was no way he was going back to the Cons looking like this but still it would make a nice test of constitution. “Well, well, well Breakdown. Just got another set of names.” Breakdown grimaced quickly regretting his choice. Would Knock Out still let him leave? “Relax big boy I always come first. So let’s get back to my ship and test out those hopefully skilled looking servos of yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you guys liked it. Thanks for reading to the end. Like I said this was for Halloween so it was a bit more gruesome or as much as I felt like writing. I could have been more descriptive but this story was already getting long. Plus unlike Repo no one actually died from getting their shit repossessed by Knock Out.


End file.
